


I (almost) lost you and it hurts like hell

by ignitethestars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Leia Organa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 17:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitethestars/pseuds/ignitethestars
Summary: After Han nearly dies for her, Leia struggles with the aftermath. Between her duties to the Rebellion, her Jedi training, and her own vendetta, Leia has little time to sleep or eat. Which is just as well, because that means she can't have any nightmares.





	I (almost) lost you and it hurts like hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanorganaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/gifts).



> If you squint this is a fanfic of hanorganaas' Legendary Heroine Verse (read it, it's amazing) hence the hodgepodge of EU and canon.
> 
> Title is a play on the lyrics from "Hurts like Hell" by Fleurie. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: there is some passages that include violence, including violence against our legendary heroine. Also present is non-graphic blaster wounds.

_ It’ll be fine, _ Han had said with that lopsided smile of his that made her stomach flip and flop like the take off to hyperspace.  _ We’ll be in and out of the cantina in no time. It's just a meeting. _

 

A meeting that's gone horribly wrong, Leia thinks as she rushes into the cantina, past the sea of people that are trying to evacuate the building. She can hear blaster fire over the sounds of screaming, and the entire building is quickly filling with smoke.

 

Her eyes scan the room, objects blurry from her eyes’ poor reaction to the smoke.  Leia shuts her eyes and opens herself out to the Force, letting it guide her. 

 

And she senses him among the darkness. He’s a bright light in a sea of shadows, as dazzling as any of his smiles. 

 

Leia frowns, realizing there is something wrong. She feels Han’s presence, but there's another. One that's unfamiliar-

 

\--And then she feels the barrel of a blaster being jammed against her lower back and she hears a low growl of, “[ _ Don't move an inch, Jedi scum.]” _

 

Leia tenses, stretching out into the Force once more, and time slows around her. She whirls around, grabs the blaster and yanks the barrel upward. Her assailant, a green skinned Twi'Lek, growls as the blaster discharges, the blast harmlessly hitting the roof.

 

Time starts back up and before she can grab her lightsaber, the assailant shoves her backward with more strength than Leia expects. She nearly tumbles backward, but quickly regains her balance. Falling back into old maneuvers, Leia snaps out a kick that connects to the assailant's midsection with a resounding  _ oomph. _

 

The blow is enough to anger the Twi'Lek and in a bout of either complete stupidity or recklessness, he rushes forward, shoves with all his might against Leia, and they both fall to the ground.

 

Leia’s head connects to the ground sharply and she sees stars as the Twi'Lek  gets back his own senses, straddles her, grabs her neck with his free hand, and presses the blaster at her forehead.

 

“[ _ Are you ready to die, Scum?]”  _ he hisses triumphantly, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips. For the first time, Leia feels fear spread through her. Was this how she was meant to die? On a backwater planet in a cantina that was quickly going up in flames?

 

Determination coats over the fear in the span of seconds. She wasn't going to die today, not like this. There was still too much to be done, so little of her life lived. 

 

The Twi'Lek’s finger wraps around the trigger-

 

Leia closes her eyes and slows her breathing; stretches out into the Force--the entity that had always resided inside her, but only recently tapped into--and she  _ sees. _

 

She sees the cantina clearly. She sees the bar, saw the origin of the fire--a small arson device that had been placed under one of the booths, set off from another location. 

 

And she sees the Twi'Lek: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the perspiration beaded across his forehead. She feels the tension in his shoulders as well as she feels his hand around her neck. She reads his thoughts, thoughts of greed and selfishness; thoughts of a bounty on a Jedi woman who's often accompanied by her bumbling, smuggler husband.

 

Pushing away his thoughts--and her own surge of anger--Leia focuses on the blaster in his hand, or more accurately the plasma bolt that bursts free as he squeezes the trigger-

 

Leia slams the Force against him at the same time she does the bolt, and the Twi'Lek goes flying backwards as his blaster explodes in his hand. The plasma bolt had gone inward instead of outward.

 

Leia watches as the Twi'Lek hits the wall and slides down to the ground motionless. He could easily be faking, but Leia doesn't have the time to check.

 

Instead, she rushes further inward into the cantina, following the feeling of Han _.  _ There's still something not right, though, but she can't place her finger on what-

 

-Until she rounds a corner and sees Han on his knees, hands behind his back, a blaster placed firmly against the back of his head. The blaster belongs to a slender Togruta. 

 

“Make a move and your husband dies.” The Togruta says, eyes flashing dangerously. 

 

Leia’s hand unconsciously moves to her side where her lightsaber normally hangs, and comes up empty.

 

“[ _ Looking for this?]”  _ A voice from behind sneers as they wave her lightsaber mockingly in front of her face. The Twi'Lek sidesteps around her and falls into place beside the Togruta woman.

 

“What do you want?” Leia demands, eyes flitting between Han and their two assailants. She managed to briefly defeat the Twi’lek with the Force, but it didn't matter how much she trusted the Force (or the luck of the universe): she wasn't ready to gamble Han’s life on her Force abilities.

 

“The bounty, Solo. We want the bounty.” The Togruta snaps, her grip on the blaster pressed against Han’s head is unwavering.

 

“[ _ You’re worth a lot to some important people.]”  _ Twi’lek continues easily with a loth-cat smile. “[ _ A lot is what we need.]” _

 

Leia doesn't need the Force to read the pride surging through the pair of bounty hunters. They want the money, sure, but they also want the bragging rights.

 

And as she reaches out to touch their thoughts, she confirms it: they want to prove themselves, to stroke their hubris.

 

_ So let's take them down a peg or two. _

 

“It would take an army to bring me to the Empire.” Leia declares with more bravado than she thinks is currently possible. “I’ve fought creatures that would give the Emperor have nightmares. I've won more battles than Naboo has queens. Do you think a pair of second rate bounty hunters such as yourselves could possibly stop me?”

 

The room falls quiet and the Togruta glares at her with contempt, and a little uncertainty. The Twi'lek glances nervously at his partner, obviously second guessing this entire operation. And Han…

 

Leia’s heart squeezes as she takes in the breathless, adoring look on her husband's face. His mouth is ajar, his hazel eyes wide with admiration and a little bit of desire, too, which almost makes her laugh.

 

The feeling doesn't last long.

 

The Togruta kicks Han in the back. He hits the ground face first. Leia surges forward to get to him, but the Twi’lek is faster, grabbing her roughly by the arms and dragging her away from Han, kicking and shouting.

 

“Get off!” Leia grounds out, struggling against the Twi’lek’s grip, but it's as firm as durasteel. 

 

The Togruta stalks toward Han like a Rancor admiring it's dinner. She uses her foot to push him onto his back and Han stares up at the blaster pointed at him.

 

She motions at Leia with the weapon and asks Han in a clear, deliberate voice: “Are you ready to die for her, Solo?”

 

Han doesn't hesitate. “Yes.”

 

The Togruta smiles knowingly, points the barrel at Han’s midsection, and squeezes the trigger.

 

Time slows as a scream rips out from Leia’s throat, agony turning her bones to lead as the plasma bolt hits Han and his body spasms forward, his eyes squeezing in pain. Her heartbeat is roaring in her ears, so she doesn't hear his choked, pained cry, but she sees his body go still…

 

And she becomes acutely aware of several things: the fire still blazing in the other room, the faint beat of Han’s heart, her lightsaber hanging on the Twi’lek’s belt, and the Togruta marching forward with a loose grip on her blaster.

 

Leia feels the Force spread through her like electricity as her instincts kick in. She stomps her foot down hard on the Twi'lek's foot. It's enough for him to loosen his grip and she springs forward. With a flick of her wrist, the Togruta’s blaster goes flying from her hand, and into Leia’s.

 

In the space of a heartbeat, Leia squeezes the trigger and the woman collapses to the ground gracelessly. 

 

Tossing aside the blaster, Leia reaches out a hand and  _ pulls.  _ And in the next second, her lightsaber is in her hand. She flicks on the switch and with a snap-hiss, the blade bursts to life, casting Leia in a violet glow.

 

Whatever the enraged Twi’lek was planning on doing, he decides against it when he sees the lightsaber. With a final quick glance at his partner, the Twi’lek backs out of the room and runs.

 

And like that, all of the energy drains from Leia’s body and she switches off the lightsaber. 

 

In the next instant, she is knelt beside Han, her hands smoothing out his hair.

 

He looks like a statue of one of those tragic heroes from legend; his eyes shut, his body sprawled out. He almost looks peaceful, as if he's finally at rest, and it makes Leia feel as though she's falling into an endless void until she realizes that she can still  _ feel _ him.

 

His presence in the Force is weak, but it still exists. It won't for much longer if she doesn't hurry and get them out of this kriffing cantina. It's either stay here and burn alive (she involuntarily shudders at the thought) or chance taking Han back to the  _ Falcon _ to get him somewhere for medical help. 

 

Praying the movement won’t worsen his wounds, Leia prepares to drag him back to the ship.

 

*

 

He’s still unconscious. 

 

He’s floating around in the bacta tank, hair floating everywhere, his usually warm skin looks dead in the cool light of the healing liquid.

 

He’s been like that for three days. 

 

_ The longest three days of my life,  _ Leia thinks as she watches Han. She's been pardoned from most of her duties in the Rebellion, thanks to some influence on Luke’s behalf. 

 

Which is swell because Leia can't imagine leaving Han's side. However, the white walls, hospital beds, and medical droids--there weren't many sentient medical officers currently--of the medbay has left her restless.

 

It's not as if she's been by herself the entire time. Kes had shown up one day with Poe and a holochess set. The two kept her entertained for hours until they left to retire to their quarters. And each night, Mara and Jyn would appear with some dinner from the cafeteria and distract her for a little while before returning to their duties.

 

A medical droid wanders by and checks on Han’s status. Slowly, it turns around to face Leia. Its black casing is marred and covered in scratches. Its optical sensors focus on Leia, burning bright.

 

“Your husband's injuries have healed sufficiently,” the Med Droid drones. “He will be removed from the bacta tank in an hour.”

 

“Will there be any lasting effects from the injury?” Leia asks. The bacta tank, in theory, would have healed it, but there's still the possibility...

 

“He will need a couple days of rest after, but apart from some soreness, there will be no lasting effects.” The Med Droid responds. When Leia says nothing further, it moves away slowly.

 

The next hour feels like an eternity. Eager to take her mind of things, she contacts Mara on the comlink. It takes only a few minutes to catch the latter up on Han's situation, and once Leia is finished, Mara snorts.

 

“Solo’s just going to  _ love _ being on bed rest.”

 

Leia can't stop the smile that spreads across her face, thinking of Han grumbling and complaining while laying in their bed-

 

\--And then she thinks of him lying on the floor of the cantina, unmoving, and barely hanging onto life.

 

“You still there, farmgirl?” Mara asks, snapping Leia out of the memory. 

 

“Yeah,” Leia replies faintly. Then, with more force: “Yeah, I'm still here.”

 

The rest of the conversation goes by as a blur. Mara tells her about some new flight simulations she's been trying, and how Luke has even started trying them, too. The mention of the two’s relationship makes Leia’s heart ache and she casts a glance at Han, still floating in the bacta.

 

As Mara ends the call, the Medical Droids begin the process of extracting Han from the tank, and for the first time in three days, Leia feels some of her fears ease away.

 

It takes another painstaking hour for Han to fully wake, an hour that Leia spends at his side, gazing down at his soft expression. Instinctively, she reaches out a hand and trails her finger down the scar on his chin.

 

It's then that Han wakes, his hazel eyes focusing on her with a warmth that she has so dearly missed, one that she almost lost.

 

“Hey there, darling.” Han says softly, still gazing at her with the intensity of a thousand suns. She feels more tension leave her body as she takes in his baritone voice. It's been too long since the last she heard it.

 

“Hey,” Leia replies. “How are you?”

 

“I feel like bantha shit.” Han admits with a forced smile as he shifts in the bed. “But having you here makes it better.”

 

“Good thing because I'm not leaving you, hotshot.” Leia says, running her fingers through his hair. Han’s eyes flutter shut and he hums in content. 

 

“I've missed this,” Han whispers softly. 

 

“Not as much as I have.” Leia says, then halts in her movements. “Would it hurt if I kissed you?”

 

“Only in a good way.” Han answers with a cheeky smile. Leia resists the urge to roll her eyes and leans forward, and slowly closes the distance between them. Her lips brush against his featherlight, and the sensation lights every nerve ending on fire. 

 

Han’s hand reaches up to cup her cheek and she unconsciously leans into his touch, desperate to feel after so long of believing that she would lose him. 

 

Leaning into his hand provides a better angle for the kiss, and Han instinctively leans forward to deepen it--

 

\--Only to yank away with a pained hiss, his free hand slapping against his midsection. Leia leaps away from him like she's been electrified, then realizes it was Han who irritated his still healing muscles, not her.

 

Unconsciously, she stretches out into the Force and taps into some of Han’s pain. It's not quite agonizing, but nine hells, it hurts. It hurts enough that Leia breaks the connection almost immediately.

 

“I'll be better soon.” Han promises, mistaking the pained look on her face as fear, plain and simple. 

 

Leia forces a smile and a nod, and sits back down next to Han, thinking of how the pain he’s feeling should be hers.

 

*

 

The next week goes by as a blur. Leia, forced to resume her duties to the Rebellion, barely has any time to spend with her still healing husband.

 

Han takes to the bed rest as well as Mara thought he would; every time Leia contacts him on the comlink during the day, he grumbles about being bored out of his mind. 

 

“He’ll be fine, Leia.” Biggs says one afternoon, after Leia’s fourth call to Han. “He’s a big boy, he can survive a little cabin fever.”

 

It's not the cabin fever that worries Leia. It's not even Han’s healing wounds. It's the constant fear that more bounty hunters will find him and exploit her feelings for him. It's the fear that next time she might not get him to a medbay in time. It's the fear that they will march into the Rebellion base one day and start firing.

 

It's irrational, she knows. If the Empire hasn't found their base yet, a few inexperienced bounty hunters certainly won't. Yet that cold bit of logic doesn't stop her from waking in the middle of the night, hand already on her lightsaber, from nightmares of bounty hunters taking siege of the base and killing everyone she loves.

 

After one particularly bad nightmare, Leia spends the next day pouring over records on current bounty hunters, looking for the Twi'lek. Maybe if she finds  him, the nightmares will stop. 

 

It's a long, excruciating job, one that takes up what little free time she has. Eventually, she just begins to take her datapad and find a nice place on the base to sit while she looks.

 

She always makes it back to  _ the Falcon _ either late at night, or just before dawn (the latter is a far more scarce occurrence).

 

Luke is the first person to notice the bags beneath her eyes, the tense way she holds herself, but he keeps his mouth shut until he finds her alone in the cafeteria late one Primeday night, pouring over a datapad.

 

“Leia.”  Luke says as greeting, sitting down opposite of her and prying the datapad out of her hands.

 

He glances down at the datapad’s screen, the pale blue glow leaving his usually warm skin in a sickly color. His lips grow thin as he reads and when he finally slides the datapad away, he rubs his forehead.

 

He says nothing for a long while, and Leia dares to hope that perhaps he isn't going to say anything at all. But she soon realizes he is carefully selecting his words.

 

_ Always a diplomat… _

 

“You can't keep doing this to yourself, Leia. You could search every criminal record database in the universe and you may never find him. All you will manage to wear yourself down in the process.”

 

Leia fixes what she hopes is a steely glare at Luke. “I can't just sit here and do nothing. He almost killed Han, and I let him go. What if he tries again and I'm not there to stop it? What if he tries again and--” Leia breaks off abruptly, unable to voice the fear that has been clawing at her insides since that day in the cantina.

 

Luke nods, hearing the unsaid  _ “what if Han doesn't make it next time?” _

 

“I have a few contacts I could ask about your missing bounty hunter.” Luke says with a pensive look. “Maybe something will turn up then.”

 

“Luke, I can't ask that of you-” Leia protests, but Luke waves away any arguments.

 

“Han is your husband, yes, but he's also my friend. Just as you are...if there's any way I can help either of you, I'm going to do it.”

 

Leia stares at him for a beat, wondering how she managed to get so lucky with her friends. Finally, she nods. “Thank you, Luke.”

 

He smiles back at her, but it doesn't quite meet his blue eyes. He obviously senses something else bothering her, but he doesn't press it. Instead he asks, “Do you want some hot cocoa?”

 

“What's that?” Leia asks with a frown.

 

“A very delicious beverage that few have perfected.” Luke answers with a childlike enthusiasm. “It always helps me relax when my mind is clouded.”

 

Leia doesn't hesitate: “I’d love some.”

 

Luke beams a grin at her and hops up from his chair to begin making their cocoa. As she watches him, Leia wonders how he manages to stay so enthusiastic and optimistic in times like these.

 

_ Perhaps,  _ she thinks _ , it's the cocoa. _

 

_ * _

 

The rest of the week she doesn't make it home to  _ the Falcon _ until long after Han’s asleep and snoring. Leia never joins him, however. She prefers to sit in the lounge, scrolling through her datapad.

 

Her late nights on the base had ended after the night with Luke and his hot cocoa. Leia doesn't want to attract attention to herself, so she makes sure she's back on  _ the Falcon _ before anyone sees her. Her arrival time changes each night, but once she's aboard the ship, she tends to read until dawn.

 

Which is just as well because not sleeping means not having nightmares. She has enough of those when she isn't reeling from Han nearly dying.

 

Much to her dismay, people have started to catch on with her current less-than-healthy lifestyle. Biggs catches her one afternoon when Leia feels faint from forgetting to eat again, and Jyn forces her to eat a ration pack.

 

“If you don't eat this, I will kick your arse.” Jyn argues, shoving the ration into Leia's hand, glaring at the latter until Leia tears the foil pack and starts to eat.

 

Then on another afternoon, Mara catches her dozing during meditation, something Leia never does. The concern from the former is palpable, but Leia waves it away 

 

“I didn't get much sleep last night,” Leia says with a weak smile. It isn't a lie. She just doesn't mention any of the other nights.

 

*

 

_ The Falcon _ is silent as Leia sneaks aboard. It's late, later than she usually makes it home nowadays, and she doesn't want to wake either Han or Chewie.

 

Jyn’s voice echoing in her ears, Leia grabs a ration pack and tiptoes to her and Han’s bedroom. She pulls the foil apart and bites into the food as she opens the door and steps inside--

 

\--To find Han pacing the room like a caged animal. The sound of her dropping her ration bar makes him whirl around in surprise, and relief appears on his handsome face.

 

“Sweetheart…” is all Han can manage before embracing her in a impressively tight hug. She feels his breath against her neck, hot and ragged, and it sends a shiver down her spine.

 

Leia goes to wrap her arms around him as well, ghosting her hands around his back--

 

\--And thinks of him down on his knees with a blaster pressed against his head.

 

Leia goes stiff in Han's arms, her hands falling to her sides. Immediately realizing something is wrong, Han pulls away, his face screwed up in concern.

 

“Darling, what's wrong?”

 

_ I almost lost you I almost lost you I almost lost you I almost- _

 

“Nothing.” Leia says with a tight smile, stepping away from Han. “I'm fine. Need a shower. We’ll talk when I get out?”

 

She goes to the 'fresher without another word. The warm stream from the shower head mixes with the tears that stream down her face. The same tears she angrily rubs away as she dresses in her nightclothes. 

 

After a few more minutes, her eyes are no longer red, so she emerges from the 'fresher, fully expecting Han to be asleep or at least less worried about her. 

 

Instead, he’s sitting upright in bed, nervously messing with the fabric on a pillow that goes flying to the side when he sees her. 

 

“You should’ve told me.” Han says with a tired sigh, standing up to cross the room. Leia pauses, thinking of the many things she hasn't told him in the past few weeks.

 

His hand threads through her soaked hair, and he presses their foreheads together. Their breaths mingle together, and Leia nearly leans forward to close the distance when Han speaks again.

 

“The upside of having a husband is being able to talk about things.” Han says softly, his eyes boring into hers. They’re filled with fear and sincerity. 

 

“Doesn't sound like much of an upside for the husband,” Leia comments, trying to keep some levity between them because she isn't sure if she's ready for this conversation.

 

(She  _ is  _ ready, she just doesn't want to face it, yet.)

 

Han let's out a quick breath and breaks away from her, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Leia...why didn't you tell me about the nightmares?” Han asks.

 

Leia blanches. She hasn't told anyone about those. There isn't any way Han could’ve found out--

 

“Chewie told me.” Han answers the unsaid question. “Said he hears you waking up in the middle of the night, and that you haven't slept properly in days.Then when I asked Jyn if she noticed anything wrong, she mentioned you haven't been eating much, either.”

 

“She shouldn't have said anything.” Leia mutters, and Han fixes her with a pained expression.

 

“She's worried about you. Luke is, too. Hell,  _ everyone _ is. And up until a couple hours ago, everyone was under the impression I already knew this. Leia, darling, when did we become a couple that keeps secrets from each other?”

 

“I don't know.” Leia admits. Anger pools around in her belly, not at Han or any of her friends, but just about everything that's happened recently. 

 

“I don’t know either, Leia. I won't push if you don't want to tell me. But I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

 

The dam of emotions that Leia has kept tucked away for so long finally cracks, and she blurts, “I can't.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you're  _ you _ . You’d try to comfort me even when I don't deserve it!” Leia snaps, the anger inside her coiling and turning inward. She shouldn't have let Han join her in the Rebellion. It was too dangerous.

 

“Whadda mean you don't deserve it?” Han asks, perplexed. “Leia, if there's one person in the galaxy that deserves a little happiness and comfort, it's you.”

 

“No, it isn't! All I do is get the people I love hurt! You wouldn't have even been in the damn cantina if you hadn't been betrothed to me!”

 

Han holds up his hands in the universal “time out” gesture, and raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Those moon jockeys would never have gone after you if it weren't for me.”

 

Han shakes his head, trying to catch up. “This is about those bounty hunters? The not sleeping or eating…” He trails off, before going to sit down on the bed, and pats the spot next to him.

 

“C’mere,” he says in a low tone that gives her goosebumps. It's the kind of voice he saves for tender moments between them; goodbyes before battles or when he kisses down her neck while they're in bed.

 

Leia sits down beside him and he wraps an arm around her, pulling her to his warm chest. She can hear the steady beat of his heart and she shuts her eyes, allowing the sound guide her to peacefulness.

 

“Things like this have happened before,” Han says, taking her hand in his free one and rubbing circles against her thumb and forefinger. 

 

“Not like this.” Leia says, forcing away the onslaught of images from that terrible day. 

 

“No, not like this.” Han concedes. “There's going to be more days like that one-for both of us. It's the price of being war heroes.” His play at levity works and Leia chuckles.

 

“You shouldn't blame yourself, either. I’d get into trouble married to you or not.”

 

“I can believe that.” Leia agrees with a weak smile.

 

“You shouldn't have to blame yourself for whatever may happen to me. The only people to blame are whoever tries to kill me.” Han says firmly.

 

“I wouldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you.” Leia replies, pulling away from his grasp far enough to place her own hand on his face. Through the Force, she senses the shifting in emotions her touch causes him.

 

“That's funny, darling...I wouldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you, either.” Han says, his voice thick with emotion.

 

They both remain quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts and confessions. At last, Leia asks, “What now?”

 

Han pauses for a moment, thinking hard. Then, “It's simple: we forgive each other. I forgive you for what you cannot forgive yourself for. And you can forgive me for...whatever you want.”

 

Leia thinks for a moment, then smiles softly. “I forgive you...for constantly running in harm's way just to follow me across the galaxy.”

 

“Hey, I made a promise.” Han replies with a lopsided smile. It gives her a sense of normalcy, of what they were like before the accident--and perhaps for what lie ahead for them.

 

Because he would continue following her into the fire and the darkness. He would drown so that she could reach the surface. It terrifies her, but she knows she can't stop him. Just as he cannot stop her from leaping into battle.

 

He loves her enough that he would be willing to die for her. And that selfless, self-sacrificing love of his burns and scalds her sometimes. It hurts and it agonizes her when he's ready to die so that she would live.

 

She also knows that she would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

 

Maybe one day it’ll be their undoing. Maybe not. Either way, they had now. They had tonight. And she was going to make the most of the time they had. It's all you could do in a war like this.

 

Leia leans forward and captures his lips with hers, moving her hand into his hair. Han shifts on the bed, so that he’s facing her completely, and she follows suit. He hooks one arm around her waist, and deepens the kiss.

 

They fall sideways unto the bed. Leia sighs against his lips: the bed’s more comfortable than she remembers. 

 

Han pulls away to catch his breath and presses his nose against hers. “Better now, sweetheart?”

 

Leia yawns and then smiles, “Now that I'm with you.” 

 

Han’s cheeks color and he rolls over so that he’s on his back. He stares up at the ceiling as she scoots closer to him, leaning her head against the crook of his arm, and throws her arm across his chest.

 

Silence passes over the room for so long that Leia almost falls asleep until Han’s voice wakes her.

 

“I feel the same way,” he says, still staring at the ceiling. A beat later, he’s gazing down at her with the sort of admiration one would save for seeing the galaxy for the first time.

 

Leia replies with the only answer that comes to her sleep deprived mind: “I know.”

 

Han holds her close and she falls asleep in his arms. For the first night in over a week, she sleeps soundly without nightmares.

 

The next morning, she asks Luke to call off the search for the Twi’lek. He happily obliges, and tells her he’s glad she and Han are getting past it.

 

That night, she makes it home early, exhausted from a long day, to find that Han had cooked them both dinner.

 

“Figured I’d whip up a little surprise.” Han says with a smile, leaning forward to kiss her. “Make up for the whole almost dying thing.”

 

“Sounds perfect, hotshot.” Leia replies, closing the distance between them again, smiling against his lips.

 

For now, they had this. And that's all that mattered.

 


End file.
